


say my name then cry me a river

by BitterlySpiteful



Series: Above [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angels, Everyone Has Issues, F/M, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mild Gore, Pining, no actual acts of violence but there are some gory descriptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-07 13:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17961563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterlySpiteful/pseuds/BitterlySpiteful
Summary: junys finds it funny that nathaniel's blood is only blue, just like everyone else's.Oneshot for the Above Series





	say my name then cry me a river

He watches Nathaniel _burn._

Junys stares and stares. Masikae first grips his arm, then pulls him into a hug. It’s not for his comfort. She cries into his shoulder, unable to watch. Unable to look past the effects of the sigil. His vision whites out momentarily, and she’s all that holds him up. 

Brian also looks away. Nathaniel’s own _brother_ looks away. Junys doesn’t. 

He watches as Nathaniel writhes and screams, blood and gore gurgling in his throat. The magic tears through him like acid, eroding skin and pouring blood and fluids outward, like some sick flower blossoming in the springtime. 

The damn wingsmith _laughs._ He laughs as Nathaniel fades, suffocated in nonexistent flames. He cackles and rolls around in blood and mud. And when the doctor shrieks down from the tree, he goes to the smith. The victor.

There’s a ringing in his ears. He doesn’t notice until Masikae pulls away, murmuring his name. Telling him not to look. Nathaniel’s screams still ring in his ears. He hears shouting and assumes it’s Brian, until the man himself holds Junys back, trying to calm him down. He pulls at his shoulders and Junys struggles against him, wins mantling and silver rattling. All he can see are the bones and melting flesh, the spines spearing through the liquid remains still spreading outward.

The brother of Nathaniel’s murderer leaps down and lands, skidding, next to the doctor. There’s a flurry of panic, another angel drops down, and they start picking him up, to take him away to heal. To safety. 

He’s shaking, Junys can’t stand. He shoves Brian and Masikae away, and heaves himself over the edge of the booth.

Junys drops, wings spreading just in time to glide him toward the carnage. He passes the doctor and other two angels as they fly Martin away. He collapses at the edge of the- the puddle that was _him._ Trembling, he crawls towards- toward-

Blood stains his clothes. There’s nothing left of Nathaniel but bones. Remnants of the sigil are marked into his sternum and ribs, still hissing magic. 

Someone grabs him just before his hand touches the skull. He shrieks and wails and tries to scramble closer, but then another pair of hands drag him backward. He’s shouting obscenities, yelling at them to let _go_ , to leave him be, let him go _let him go let him-_

 

 

He meets Nathaniel when his parents tried to marry his sister to one of the brothers.

Nathaniel stares at them with unbridled hate in his eyes, and had pretty much spat on their shoes and told them to fuck off. Junys, who’d only been around as eye candy, to show that his family was respectable, likes him from the start. 

So while both their parents tried to make nice, and while Junys’ parents say how Brian is so much better acting, maybe in another few years they would try again-

He slides out of the room and nearly runs right into Nathaniel, who sits at the corner, eavesdropping.

It takes a moment for either of them to speak. But when Nathaniel does, he says, “Why are you here?”

The instant disinterest doesn't bother Junys. He sniffs and straightens his shoulders. "I'm Junys, son of Lady Ikune and Lord-"

"I don't care. I just wanted your name." Nathaniel turns to leave, and Junys deflates. He thought for a moment, then skips back over to the taller boy. "My parents tried to marry my sister, Masikae, to you. I- Nobody except for them were really happy about it, but I hope-"

"Look," Nathaniel hisses, turning on his heels. He eyes Junys for a moment. This time, he doesn't straighten, despite his parents' teachings screaming at him to do so. "I... I don't want any part of your fucking family, right? When I want to marry, I will. I-"

"I'm not trying to change your mind." His words come out in a rush. "I just-"

"Then why are you  _here_?"

He doesn't really know. So he tells Nathaniel just that. And Nathaniel, damn him, slowly smirks, and says, "Fine. I got a few silverwillow cigarettes stashed away, you wanna go share some?"

 

 

A steaming mug is pushed into his hands. He doesn’t drink; his cold fingers barely register that it’s there.

Junys hears talking. He doesn’t bother to make sense of the words.

Masikae sits at his side. She pulls a blanket over his shoulders. Tries to push back disheveled silver hair, but he turns his head. He doesn’t want to be touched, he doesn’t want _comfort._

All he can think about is how the agonized screams gurgled out into whimpers, faded to wheezes and- And then nothing. All he can think about is-

"Hey," Masikae says quietly, "Are you okay?"

"Leave me." His voice is strained, a whisper. Instinctively, realizing there are other eyes in the room, he straightens as much as he can, and brushes back wild strands of silver hair. "Just... Go."

There's a moment of silence in the room. He glances around to find that the other Generals are there, mostly discussing the  _what next_ , but he's still stuck in the Arena, still stuck watches Nathaniel burn away before his eyes. Masikae sighs softly, turning his head to start retying his hair. A nervous habit they'd picked up from each other, when they'd been young. He leans away from her, shoulders hiking up. He doesn't care what he  _looks_ like.

It's Brian that ushers the rest of them out of the room. He comes back in, though, quietly closing the door. "I know you and him were close-"

"Don't."

"I'm saying, don't expect a last word letter from him, Junys. He wanted to keep that secret, and you know it."

His grip tightens on the mug and he shakes and looks away. Yes, he knew that. Some foolish part of him had always hoped, though. He stays silent, lest he make enemies. Just like his mother had always said. _Hold your tongue, boy, or you'll destroy yourself._

But Brian,  _damn_ him, has to run his own mouth. Spoiled brat, he always was. "And to keep  _both_ of your integrities afloat, Junys, you must stop  _acting_ like this-"

"Are you even upset?" The words cough up like bile before he can stop them. "You're his brother, aren't you?"

Brian glares at him, his one eye narrowing. Nathaniel tore out the other. How fitting. Brian took his birthright, Nathaniel took half his sight. Wish it were both eyes... "Yes, I'm upset. But I'm an adult. Duels end like this all the time. So suck it  _up_ , Junys, and act like the General you are."

He scoffs and looks away, knowing the angel's words hold truth to them. His knee bounces. The mug in his hands starts to creak as his grip tightens. He grimaces. "You aren't acting like you're upset over your own brother's death. You don't seem to care at all, even."

A glance at Brian's eye. His expression is almost unreadable, but Junys is good at telling what people are thinking. Brian finally looks away, turning his face. "I am, Junys, just-"

"No, you aren't!" The ceramic shatters in his hands; he tightens fists around shattered pieces. "You aren't, because you see this as an opportunity, don't you? You're going to make nice with that damn- That damn  _wingsmith_ , you're going to make alliances, and you're going to get shit out of this, and-"

"Calm yourself, right now," Brian hisses. Junys stands, past the point of caring. The room seems hazy; fog spills from his breath when he hisses, "You hated him, didn't you? Your own brother and you  _hated_ him, and I-"

"Junys." Masikae's voice is sharp, reminiscent of their mother's. She shoves the door open the rest of the way, taking a few steps toward them. "What is going on in here?"

Junys doesn't look away from Brian. He backs away, then finally turns and pushes past Masikae. There's a low murmur from the other angels as he takes his exit. But the moment he's outside and in the air, the wind from flying mutes everything. He wishes it would deafen him.

 

 

"You know," Nathaniel says, many, many months after they'd met, "I'm starting to think you don't have any other friends."

Junys offers a laugh, reclining back on the lounge chair, squinting up at the sun. He uncrosses one leg and puts the other over it. "Well, what if I don't?"

Nathaniel turns from the flames he's boiling the seawater with and shrugs then goes back to cooking the shallow puddle full of minnows. Gross. "Doesn't matter much to me." 

Junys reaches to his right and grabs his drink, groaning when he realizes there's not much left. A snap of his fingers and he drops the glass onto a tray that a human carries over. A different servant goes to make him another drink. He's already feeling a bit tipsy- Hell, maybe he should lay off the alcohol... "You haven't sat your ass in the chair the entire time we've been here. I thought the whole idea of this little vacation was to relax, Nathan?"

Another shrug. Junys sits up, frowning down at him. "Alright, fine, what's going on?"

Nathaniel takes a while to watch the dead minnows bobbing in their bubbling water. Finally, he stands and kicks sand over the small pool. "Calikiji hasn't come around in the past few weeks."

Annoyance tugs at his stomach. Junys restrains from sighing. This damn girl, Nathaniel won't stop  _obsessing_ over her. (He'd found out, not long ago, that her parents had just convinced her to... get close to Nathan. Damn them.) "There's plenty of fish out there," he says, waving a hand, hesitating, though. He  _knows_ nothing between them will ever be more than it already is... A fool can hope, though. "Calikiji isn't the only- person- who would be a suitable partner."

"No, but she's the one I  _want_." 

Junys shivers, despite the hot air. Damn the Ground and its heat. He isn't meant for this sweltering humidity. Finally, he sits up, putting his legs over the side of the chair. He takes the drink from the tray a human slavegirl is holding up. "Look, Nathaniel, she's- It's not going to happen."

This is his chance, he thinks. He needs to use it well. He takes a sip from the drink, trying not to scrunch his face at the fuzzy flavor. "Give up on her, alright man? You're not you anymore, with her coming around."

Nathaniel shoots him a glare. He looks like a child, with sand sticking to his ass and legs. He notices Junys' stare and brushes some of it off. "How would you know who I am?"

"Considering we've been friends and have seen each other almost daily for a couple of years now? Yeah, I think I know who you might be." Yeah, okay, there goes that drink. It's so damn hot out. There's already another one waiting for his hand when he reaches for it. Servants are great. His parents never really kept any around; most of the humans they own go to the breeding camps. 

"No, you don't." Nathaniel paces away and Junys finally gets to his feet, but he has to take a moment to collect himself. Whew, shit, he's kinda dizzy. He brushes back a stray lock of hair. Then goes and puts his arm over Nathaniel's shoulders. It's more to keep himself upright than to comfort Nathaniel.

"Stop with that sad bullshit," he says, leaning his head toward Nathaniel's. " _She_ might not want you, but I do-"

His words are cut off when Nathaniel backpedals, making Junys nearly drop to the sand. He stumbles, face reddening at his words. "Well, uh, ignore what I said, I- I-"

Hell. He runs a hand through his hair, eyes trained sideways, towards the chairs. The handful of servants are trying not to look at them with wide eyes. Fog hisses from his mouth when he sighs - a bad habit he needs to break. "Nathan, I-"

"Do you mean it?"

He looks up. Nathaniel is staring at him, as if questioning the trust they've built, as if wondering if Junys isn't just pulling on his strings. He knows the feeling well. Son of a General, that's all the both of them are. Pawn pieces, political one-ups, things for trade and for alliances, things to marry off the moment they show a sign of an adult mentality. He takes a breath, and says, "Yeah."

 

 

Junys stops checking in on the breeding grounds. They can handle themselves for a few days while he... while he collects himself.

He and Nathaniel had been _close._ It’s not fair that his name isn’t even mentioned in the last word letter. It’s just addressed to his wife, his son, his brother... Not to his side lover. Not to those nights they’d spent together, not to those years they’d known each other, not to the unbroken trust they'd had, not to _anything_. 

Not to Junys. Fine. He understands. They would take their secret to the grave, wouldn't they? They’d keep those nights sharing a bed together in the dark, as they should be. As Nathaniel  _wants_ them to be. 

He snaps the spark rocks together to light a cigarette. Funny, how he'd rarely ever had to use them. Nathaniel always lit the silverwillows for him... Fuck.

He takes a drag, keeping the cigarette between his teeth as he runs his hand through greasy hair. The smoke burns his eyes, making them water. So he takes the thing from his lips and holds it away, furiously blinking away the tears. They don't go away. Damn it, it's always the  _little_ things that get to him.

There's not been any word from the hospital about the new General. Martin, that's his god-forsaken name.  _Damn_ him. Damn him, fucking Junys wants to rip his throat out, damn it _all_ , fucking hell-

His thoughts trail off into gibberish. He sucks in more smoke and stares out from his porch. The rolling fields of his farmland spread before him. Nathaniel had given these fields to him, as a gift when he'd first become General. Out of all twelve, only three truly  _own_ a lot of property. Others are employers, military officers... 

He misses those days at the beach. Tentative, new,  _them_. He misses that night, and how the sheets had awkwardly tangled their legs together, how Nathaniel had fucking fallen on the floor at one point, and they'd had to pause to laugh...

The cigarette drops ash on his fingers. He taps it against the tabletop, to be later swept up by a maid. He finds himself missing that warm weather, so vastly different from up Above. He finds himself missing the sand, and how it had stuck, how they'd got it caught between their lips, and-

"Sir."

Startling, Junys blinks back to awareness, turning his head. His advisor stands in the threshold to the house. "There's a problem on the grounds-"

"Have Shenio take care of it. She'll know what to do." Junys takes a long drag from his cigarette. "And get me some cigars."

"But it's a pressing matter, we need you there-"

"Do I look like I'm about to get up? Go, Piwa. I don't want to hear from you."

He hears rustling, then footsteps. Shenio will see to making sure the breeding camps run smoothly. So long as Piwa actually gets the message to her. That advisor isn't all that bright...

So he'll sit on his back porch, and drink.

 

 

The second time, they're sitting on that same porch. Talking about stupid shit. Gossiping, really.

"Well, that isn't what  _I_ had heard," Junys drawls, studying his nails while his other hand holds a smoke. "See, Masikae told me that Tomaje managed to wheedle his way into Ki's little group. Caused a riot, from what I understand. Something about Ki's friend, Olia, fucking a boy that doesn't belong to her. They fought it out in their weekly poetry recital."

Nathaniel barks his laugh and Junys smiles to himself, taking a drag. He's really one of the only ones to get Nathaniel to laugh. Sure, maybe Calikiji got a couple of chuckles out of him once in a blue moon, but Junys... He managed to do it often. Good. That's something he can hold over everyone, for the rest of his life.

"Lanthur recently bought humans from your parents, did you know that?" Nathaniel asks, snapping a new cigarette to light. He passes it to Junys when he drops the old one's end on the ground. 

"I saw. I try to go through the files, as much as I can." He leans over, putting his hand up to his face to whisper into Nathaniel's ear. "A few are some of the... bigger females. You can only guess why those are in our lines."

Nathaniel shudders and shakes his head. "That's disgusting. Are you sure?"

"Sometimes they try to return them. Mostly because of... broken hip bones, or limping, or if they're just- 'defective'." He makes quotation marks with one hand, sucking on the cigarette with the other. "We make fine family lines, really. No crossbreeding, no deformities. Those that aren't up to par, we usually pitch into the ocean. None of the ones we send out are _broken_. Those that come back, however." Junys shudders at the thought. Disgusting little things, humans are. He can't imagine ever bedding one. He'd much rather stick to those of his own tastes.

Of which is sitting next to him, arm brushing his as they sit in chairs a bit too close together. Nathaniel sighs and kicks one of his feet onto the rail, leaning them against a supporting bar. "You think you know a guy."

"I suppose everyone has their secrets." It's really another try at the whole... broaching of  _this_ subject. Those two weeks on the beach had been- Just short of heavenly, really, with the only thing to dampen the mood being that they would have to return to the Above islands. No sane angel could ever live down there, anyway, what with the heat and all...

But Nathaniel passes the opportunity to talk about it with a wave. Junys puts his cigarette out on the shoulder of some slave, ignoring its heavy, pained wince. The two of them sit in silence for a long while. Eventually, Junys says, quietly, "That doesn't have to stop, you know."

Nathaniel looks at him from the corner of his eye. Those sun-bright eyes are downright blazing in the afternoon light. "Junys," he starts, then sighs and scratches through his dark hair. Junys has the urge to fix the messy strands but keeps his hands planted firmly in his own space. 

Junys tries to talk, but Nathan interrupts him. "June, it won't work. Sure, maybe if we weren't sons of-"

"Generals, yeah." He can't help but keep the bitterness out of his voice. He scratches his temple, then leans his head in his palm. Keeping his voice carefully neutral, he says, "Well, we could... keep things secret."

Nathaniel doesn't look over at him, but Junys can tell in the way that his brow furrows that he's thinking. Everyone else may be convinced he's some heartless thing, but Junys  _knows_ better than that. "It... could work," Nathaniel says slowly, looking over at him. But he must see the dawning hope in Junys' eyes because he looks away just as quickly. Still, he murmurs, "It could work."

 

 

Masikae visits a while after it's apparent he's not leaving his home. She sits next to him on the couch and puts a hand on his knee. “I miss him, too,” she says, quietly.

No, she doesn’t. Not like he does. Nobody  _misses_ Nathaniel. The General who appeared heartless, who was a  _monster_ , even in the eyes of his own blood-family.

He takes a shaky drag through a silver willow cigar. Through smoke, he says, “Why are you here?”

He hadn’t called her over. He hadn’t  _wanted_ anyone over. Let him wallow in his grief, alone. 

“I’m worried about you,” she says quietly. She's being sincere, he can tell, but he also can't bring himself to care. Nobody cares about Nathaniel's death, why should he care about anybody else? Damn them.

"Fuck off," he mutters, biting back other remarks and hissing insults. He's always been one for words, but now, they might betray him. 

 "June, I-"

"Don't call me that."  _Nobody_ else could call him that. "My name is  _Junys_ , Masikae. Don't call me that."

The venom in his voice has her withdrawing. Thank god. He stares at the empty bottles lined in semi-neat rows on the coffee table. He sniffs, running a hand under his nose to wipe snot away. His voice is quieter when he says, again, "Don't call me that."

She swallows audibly and looks away from him, toward a wall, toward the distance. Finally, she stands, and says, "I assume Piwa came by a week ago, yes? There's an outbreak among the humans in the camps, Junys, and we need you there to take care of it-"

"Kill whoever's sick," he mutters listlessly. "I haven't been able to tamp down on that infection, just... Just kill the damn things."

"Junys, that's half your remaining stock-"

"Kill them!" he shrieks, and kicks the coffee table, upending it and shattering bottles across the floor. Masikae backs up, and he sees her eyes grow wide when he clambers to his feet.

"The only reason you're here is because of the damn camps," he spits, raising a hand to push back wild hair. He points an accusing finger at her. "You don't care, do you?"

"J-"

"Do you!"

"I do! You're my brother, and-"

"Not about me!" He feels his chest convulse, his shoulder hike forward. He feels frail, sick, insane. "Not about me, that's not who I'm- I'm not who I'm talking about! Nobody gives a  _damn_ he's dead, and-"

"It's been over a  _month_ , Junys," she hisses, backing up, raising careful hands. He doesn't remember when he'd started to take steps toward her, magic hissing from his nostrils in plumes of silver fog. "He's dead. There's no changing what happened."

"I'm going to  _kill_ him," he swears and feels like something, somehow, is right in the world, all of a sudden. It's a bright relief from the drifting despair he's been in. "That murderer, how  _dare_ he ever take Nathan from me?"

"Nathaniel wasn't  _yours_ , to begin with, what the hell are you talking about, Junys?" She stumbles over trash on the floor. The hairs all along his arms and neck are starting to stand on end. The temperature is dropping drastically, magic frothing to life in the air around him. She quickly pulls her shirt up over her nose and mouth, knowing better than anybody what that fog can do to someone's lungs. Tiny little glass razors, ripping tissue and flesh to shreds through one inhale... Her voice comes out muffled. "Do you hear what you're saying? Do you  _hear_ yourself?"

He's nearly beyond words. His fists clench and relax, before curling tightly again. "Nobody gives a damn, Masikae. His own wife and son-" His voice breaks and he looks elsewhere, lost for a moment before the anger sharpens his focus again. He takes another staggering step towards her. The air around them is cold; he sees droplets of blood starting to prickle across her exposed skin, where his magic can reach. "I'm the only one that cares."

"You're insane."

"I loved him-"

"You're insane!" She shrieks it at him and then dodges the subsequent blast of chilled air frothing from his mouth. She ducks under a fist and then swings a leg out, tripping him and making him land hard on his ass. Masikae stands over him, panting, which devolves into coughs. She puts her elbow over her face and bends over, hacking at the sharp dust floating through the air. 

Junys breathes in hard through his mouth, feeling the shards melt on his tongue, like water. They leave a sweet, rotten taste in his mouth. He stays there on the floor, glaring up at her as she stumbles out of the room, coughing all the while.

A sniff, and he wipes his hand over his face, bringing away saltwater. Fuck.  

 

 

Nathaniel and Calikiji marry in early spring, beneath a blossoming willow tree. There aren't many people there - at Cali's request, it was a more private wedding. They're both still bruised and bleeding from their courting fight, and Nathan... smiles at her. 

She seems sad. Junys can't stand that look in her eyes, because he knows Nathan sees it. But, despite the unwillingness in her timid movements, Nathaniel won't back down. He's already proposed, already given her their first flight as a married pair, already fought her, as tradition always demands, and-

Junys looks away when he puts his arm over her shoulders.

At the table, where food and drink is sprawled out in neat little patterns that, on any other day he would have enjoyed, he stands and drinks. 

She sees him there, alone, and comes to stand across the table from him. Her nice clothes, a simple button-down and slacks, are still bloodied and torn. She stares at him, and he at her, and eventually, she says, "I am sorry, Junys."

"Save it," he tells her, looking over to Nathaniel, who is having what looks like a heated discussion with his brother. "You got what you wanted, didn't you?"

"No," she says, and he knows the feeling. "My parents did, though."

He moves his gaze from the two brothers to the parents present at the ceremony. Her and his families are chatting, both parties content with how events played out. She'll probably be with child, soon, landing the Head General's family an heir or heiress, promising another long family line, promising an eternal binding between the two separate families. Cali's parents got what they wanted: wealth. And Nathaniel's got what they wanted: their son married off to some pretty-looking girl, who is strong enough to stay alive in any fight Nathaniel might throw at her.

Junys can't help but think that he'd have fewer bruises if he and Nathan were to fight. 

His own family stands to the side, attending only because he is. Masikae is chatting up a tall fellow, strong in the shoulders, sharp in the face, and with a broad set of wings. Good for her. Junys won't ever marry; she should, at the least. 

Junys looks back at the wife when she reaches for one of the wine glasses and starts to drink. He can't blame her. "He's obsessed with you, you know."

"I'm aware. It worked in their favor." She drops the empty glass toward a human, who hastily picks it up from the ground. Then she grabs another one. "I wish he wasn't."

"As do I."

 

 

It's been... months. Junys doesn't bother to track the time anymore. His house is brimming with razor-sharp diamond dust and thick fog that freezes his white eyelashes in clumps.

He's not sure how, exactly, he got on his floor, but the dead body of a messenger hawk lays near him. Its message is strewn across his stomach, printing out that the new General is alive and well if still a little sore. Bile full of hatred rises in his gut and he says to the dead bird, "If anyone deserves to die, it's him."

The hawk can't respond. He's sure it would agree with him, if it could. He turns over on his side, drunkenly reaching for the overturned coffee table. It's been knocked around a bit more. He never bothered to pick it up. Masikae never came around anymore. 

He tries to get up and pitches into broken glass. Coughing, he tries again, not aware enough to even be worried about how high a fever he's got. Everything's blurry.

Junys finally stands and staggers to the kitchen. Trips over the rug and goes sprawling again. He groans and rolls onto his back, tears sliding unbidden down his temples and into his disgusting, tangled hair. He hasn't changed his boxers in a week or so, and his shirt is doubly as old.

He coughs some more, lungs rattling, as he eventually rolls onto his hands and knees and crawls for the sink. It's as if he's been sucking on cotton for days. He can't think past the headache. Can't remember when he last had water, and not alcohol. Can't remember when he last  _ate_.

He blacks out reaching for the water tap.

 

 

He watches Nathaniel pace with a sinking feeling in his stomach. "How could he do that?" Nathan seethes, tossing his glass at teh wall. A slave comes to start sweeping it up, only to get a kick to the ribs for its efforts. Junys takes a drag from his cigarette. He stays silent. Brian made a mistake, sure, but Junys knows all too well how humans can just be...

He shakes the thought from his head. "So, there's a couple of halfies that we need to get rid of. Easy, we go down and slaughter them, and the mother. Remember that time we found that human family at the beach house? Like that."

Nathaniel shakes his head, furious, still pacing back and forth. "No, he'd throw a fit. It's his property, down there, I have no say unless they all come up here all of a sudden..."

Junys watches as his dearest friend tries to plot out some human deaths, and stays wisely silent about the woman he'd caught on the Ground, that one time, and the possibility there's some kid out there of his own. Halfie or not, it could be out there. "Nathan, just... Just calm down-"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" This fury isn't something Junys has ever had directed at him. He shifts backward, slightly, frowning. Sure, Nathaniel's upset. But  _they've_ never really fought with anger and teeth, such as so many of Nathan's relationships have gone through. "I'm calm! I'm just- Fuck! He's such an  _idiot_ , and I-"

Nathan slows to a stop. He turns and glares at Junys. But he doesn't spit out what's truly on his mind. Junys sighs and guesses, "Did Calikiji do something again?"

"That insolent child!" Nathaniel starts pacing again. "He's  _weak_. There's no trace of magic in him, not even her plant or water magic, and I don't know what to do! I can't have that frail of an heir, I just-"

"Maybe you shouldn't have married her." He bites it out before he can stop himself. He's learned not to instigate things. It's the one reason why they've never truly fought.

But Nathaniel turns on him, and his eyes are gilded flames, burning with rage. "What did you say?"

Too late to go back now. "I said, maybe you should not have married her. You know  _why_ she agreed, right? Her parents just wanted that wealth, and-"

"Don't! Don't say that!" Nathaniel points at him, smoke hissing from his nostrils and sparks flitting away from his skin. "How dare you?"

"How dare I?" He pushes away from the wall, hands curling into fists. He takes the few necessary steps and slaps Nathaniel's pointing hand out of the air. "You never loved her, Nathan, you were just obsessed with the  _idea_ of her."

"No, you're just  _jealous_." Nathaniel stalks like a wild cat in a cage. Never takes his eyes away from Junys'. "You love me, and you can't have me. Get over yourself, June, you-"

"No,  _you_ need to get over yourself. Your head is turned on backward, Nathan, and I can't just- stand by while you destroy yourself like this-"

"Get out of here! Go!"

"No! I'm not leaving, I won't leave you to your self-destruction." He grabs Nathaniel's hand when it tries to come to hit him. He feels embers burn his skin, but his grip only tightens. A breath of harmless fog douses any flame that tries to rise. "It doesn't matter what I think, or feel, or-"

"But it does, doesn't it? You don't think I notice those stares you give me? The hatred in your eyes when you look at my family? You don't think I notice your  _pining_? You're sick, do you get that? Sick!"

Junys shoves him away, taking a few steps back. He takes a moment to collect himself and calm the rattling of his wings. He opens his mouth, to maybe continue the fight, to maybe make amends, but Nathaniel's face is pinched in rage, so he clicks his teeth shut.

He leaves, that night. He leaves Nathaniel alone, to roll around in his own problems and thoughts. Damn him.

 

 

Someone is crouching over him.

"What have you done to yourself?"

Junys turns his head slightly, barely able to open his eyes. "Nathan?" he croaks, nearly flinching when the cold hand brushes oily strands of hair out of his eyes. Through his own blurred vision, he can make out dark hair, and burning gold eyes. "I- I missed you," he whispers, trying to raise an arm to cup Nathaniel's cheek. It barely rises from the floor.

"June, my friend..." He can't place whatever emotion is in that voice. It wavers as if he's hearing it through murky water. "Why are you doing this?"

"You're gone." Realization sinks into him. He nearly heaves, and he shuts his eyes against the illusion. Those sun-bright eyes sear spots behind his eyelids, so he looks up at Nathaniel again. "Why- Why'd you go?"

Nathaniel sits down, legs barely brushing Junys' arm. His hand is cold against his forehead. The apparition feels  _real_. Junys shuts his eyes and just... breathes. Lives there, lives while Nathaniel smooths his palm over his cheek. "Y-You left," he whispers, voice cracking, wheezing. He can't breathe.

"I'm sorry," the ghost whispers, and it doesn't sound like Nathaniel. He doesn't  _apologize_. The touch disappears. 

When Junys opens his eyes, nobody's there.

 

 

He wasn't sure if Nathaniel would ever come back.

When he does, though, he's different. Something happened, on the Ground. Junys doesn't dare ask.

He wants to, but he doesn't. Because Nathaniel came to  _him_ , first. Not his wife, or brother, or son. He went to  _Junys_.  

"Nathan," he whispers, pulling his robe tight. To give his hands something to do, so he doesn't reach for the other General. "Are you alright?"

Nathaniel looks away from the window, down to his coffee cup, then over to Junys. He opens his mouth, then furrows his brow, and looks away again. "Yes. I'm- good, really. Things worked out."

"Things?" He raises one eyebrow, pulling his feet up onto the seat cushion, tucking them to the side to stay warm. Whoever is to tend to the furnace isn't doing their job; the embers inside the metal casing are glowing dully, but barely give out heat. "What things?"

"My brother's situation..." Nathaniel sighs and shakes his head, finally taking a sip from the now-lukewarm coffee. For a moment, Junys rethinks giving him coffee. He'd been down on the Ground during the  _summertime_. It must have been hot as hell. "Well, he doesn't have to worry about those things anymore."

Junys takes a moment to remember, then quietly says, "Oh."

Brittle silence lays over the two of them for a moment. Junys shifts his cup from hand to hand. Eventually, he murmurs, "Well, will you be challenging Masikae again?"

Nathaniel's glowing eyes flick toward him, then back to his mug. He nods.

He holds back a sigh. Of course, Nathaniel would. The duel wasn't even finished; Masikae had assumed Nathaniel was dead or incapacitated, but here he is in the flesh. Alive and well, if a little bit heat-touched. But Masikae... she'd only really challenged him because of Junys. (That night, where he'd practically blubbered problems at her, hadn't been one of his best.)

And suddenly, Nathaniel stands up. Junys quickly scrambles to his feet as well, putting his cup to the side. "Are you leaving?"

Nathan doesn't answer him. He goes for the balcony, pushing open the glass doors, and stands at the rail. Sighing, Junys turns away so he doesn't have to watch him leave.

"Get your wings," Nathaniel says. "And meet me at the Gardens in an hour."

Junys looks back just in time to watch him leap from the balcony, and swoop off, out of sight.

 

 

Voices drift into his awareness. He groans, and shifts, but between the pain in his ribcage and his head, he can't gather the strength to look around. Someone grips his hand. Her voice is familiar. Masikae. His sister. 

Eventually, everything comes to his awareness. The scent of the burning herbs near his head, the crackling of a fireplace, the cold tang of paste medicine on his tongue and teeth. A few people are talking. His sister is one of them, then two other voices he can't quite put a finger on.

"-be alright, th-"

"-is own choice, but I-"

Junys lolls his head to the side and cracks open an eye, staring blearily around. He feels clean, surprisingly. He almost missed that. Groaning, he gets out, "Nath..."

His sister is there instantly, running around the bedside to kneel in front of his vision. "Junys, oh my god, you're awake."

"Where's-?" He tries to sit up, but gentle hands push him down. "Wait, I- Nathan- Nath-" An old woman takes Masikae's place and pushes him all the way back on the bed. A healer. It would explain where he is, but why...

Someone pries open his mouth and smears more paste on his tongue. He gags, but his eyes feel heavier, now, and he stops struggling, stops mumbling a dead man's name. He slips into a delirious half-sleep, listening to them talk quietly. He can only make out a few words, but  _heartsickness_ is one he hears several times. Hell, it makes sense. Damn it,  _damn_ him.

Junys has heard the term before. Especially when his mother had passed, with his father to follow shortly. Damn, he probably should have seen the signs- Should have been smarter about all this. It's not like him to make these sort of-  _mistakes_.

A cool hand brushes hair from his face. He tries to call for Nathaniel again, but he only gets out a groan, tongue too heavy to move.

 

 

The Gardens are beautiful at night. The moss along the canals makes the water glow green and blue, and frame Nathaniel's silhouette like a halo. He's standing near the edge of the island, by one of the waterfalls.

Junys drops from the air and lands a handful of meters from the other General. He folds his silver wings and walks the remaining distance, reaching up to re-tie his hair. "Why are we out here, Nath-"

A hand grips his shoulder, pulls him into a rough kiss. He struggles for a moment, remembering those horrible words Nathaniel had spoken to him, in their second to last conversation, but when Nathaniel doesn't move away, only presses closer, he relaxes. Obliges. And Nathaniel pushes him, and they tip over the edge.

Their free fall lasts a while, one hand keeping Junys' forehead pressed to Nathaniel's. He breathes, "I missed you, Nathan. I was so worried."

But Nathaniel's eyes are closed, so Junys can't read any emotion from them. He only opens them when they part. Wings snapping out, they swoop away, synchronized, then come back together. 

Hands grasp at his elbows, and Junys pulls them closer together, only to part a second later. It's almost a dance, he thinks, and he knows he will never share this sort of flight with anyone else. They twirl, and dive, matching movements, coming together only to part again. Nathaniel makes a movement of his arms, and Junys follows him upward. Spiraling up, and up, the wind whipping his hair free, the clattering of their wingtips brushing together- 

At the peak of the climb, they stall, meet in another kiss, and then drop.

 

 

Masikae's house is tidy and warm. It's a far cry from his desolate home. She offers him a guest room, with large windows. But that night, when she's asleep, and he can't seem to rest, he goes to try the balcony. It's locked. A futile try, if he really wanted to leave, but he also knows that Masikae's hidden his wings somewhere as well. 

Damn it, he isn't some stupid child. He won't go and actively try to kill himself. He'll just... waste away. Like Nathaniel did, with the sigil carved into his chest-

Those  _screams_ ring in Junys' ears for a second and he drops back onto the bed, pulling a pillow over his head and curling into a fetal ball. He bites his lip until it bleeds, until he can't take it anymore. He reaches blindly for the bedside table, grabbing the bowl sitting there. He dips two fingers into the medical paste, and sucks it into his mouth. 

The effects are instant. His body  _cools_ , and he drops his hand to the sheets and shuts his eyes. His head is blissfully quiet for a bit. And it's just long enough to let him get to sleep.

 

 

The wingsmith's eyes send chills down Junys' spine. They remind him of Nathaniel's, cold and burning, and calculating. 

"Junys, Martin. I believe you two have met."

There's something in his tone. Junys doesn't look toward him, doesn't try to read whatever's lying under those polite words. "Yes, you and your brother made a few of my wing sets." One of which he's wearing at the moment. Oh, how irony hates him.

But it's better to play nice. This wingsmith, Martin, is... unsettling. The few times he's seen him had only been to commission certain sets of wings he couldn't just get at a normal store. "They are quite a fine art, really. Strong, too."

And he can't help himself, because he has suspicions, and this whole situation is screaming  _run_ , so he says, "I wonder how you two managed to get so far from nothing."

Nathaniel's hand tightens on his knee, claws digging into his skin, drawing pinpricks of blood through his slacks. Junys doesn't flinch, just keeps his polite smile. He feels as if something is wrong, other than the angel in front of him. 

"-But this isn't why I requested your council."

Hell, here it goes.

"Go on."

Martin grins a viper's grimace. He unfolds the crisp paper, and slides it toward Nathaniel. "This is my formal challenge," he says, and Junys' blood goes cold. "A duel, two weeks from this day."

"A duel," Nathaniel hisses, and when Junys glances over at him, his eyes aren't on Martin. He follows his gaze and sees the human slave Martin brought along. And it  _looks_ at him. It's just a quick glance, and it quickly snaps its head back down, but it  _looked_ at him. He studies it for a moment, then glances back at Nathaniel out of the corner of his eye when he speaks.

"And why would I want to accept?' Nathaniel asks, and Junys nearly protests. This angel - this  _wingsmith_ \- has something up his sleeve. Nobody in their right mind challenges Nathaniel unless they think they can win. Unless they  _believe_ , whole-heartedly, that they can defeat him. And that human... it unsettles him, really. Something isn't right, here. "And to the death. What game are you playing?"

"All or nothing," Martin says, but Junys only has his attention on the paper, on the rules and officials. Instinct is kicking in, his gut is telling him that this is  _wrong_. Something is amiss, and he can't sit idly by while Nathaniel bets his life away.

Maybe the reason Nathaniel chose Calikiji over him is that Junys could even think of doubting him. But to have a wife that doesn't sense danger - that, itself, is a risk. At least he has the sense to try and warn Nathan.

So when Martin leaves, and Nathaniel is still staring at the page, Junys quietly says, "He's up to something, Nathan. You shouldn't have accepted."

Nathaniel sighs and glances over at him, gold eyes weary. "June, he's some silly wingsmith. I'll kill him, and that will be the end of it. I'll be fine."

 

 

The arena is silent, at night. There are no duels, no screaming crowds, nothing. Nothing but the wind, and the clattering of leafy branches above his head.

It had been easy finding his wings. Masikae is too predictable, hiding them in her own closet. It had been a bit harder to get them out of her room, but a smear of the medical paste under her nose, and he'd been certain she wouldn't be waking up for a while.

He stares down at the bones, and the bloom of the blood and gore, like a night lily, stretching petals out toward the silver moon. He stands at the edge of the stain, gazing with empty eyes. How funny it is, that Nathaniel spreads out for him, for the moon. How funny it is, that his blood is still so blue, even though he had always been as bright as the sun, as beautiful and horrifying as a forest fire. 

How funny it is, that Junys has always been cool, been silver, the moon, the stars. Night and day, only meeting, only embracing, at twilight, where they could both share the sky.

But now, it's dark, and he feels cold. There's no warmth, not anymore, not without this angel who is pooling out before him, a stain in the mud.

Junys  _screams_. He rips at his hair, stomps his foot forward, and wordlessly  _screams_ at Nathan's cracked bones. Fog spills from his mouth, prickling sharply against his skin, flowing down, heavy, coating the floor of the Arena. Nathaniel's ribs arch out from the plumes of fog, like sentinels guarding the gates of hell, like barren, jagged rocks peeking out of seafoam and churning waves.

He sobs, reaching up to press his palms to his eyes until he sees spots of colors on the insides of his eyelids. He blubbers at the dead, at the blackened bones, yells and screams his rage and grief. "You  _left_ me! I tol-told you it was a- wasn't a good damn- damn idea. But you didn't listen! You  _never_ fucking  _listen_!"

Strands of hair come away when he runs his hands through his hair. He spins away on one foot, staggering a couple of steps away before turning back.

"God damn it, Nathan!" His voice cracks and he shakes his head, stumbling back until he drops to the ground, unable to breathe past his sobs. He coughs, turns to the side to dry-heave, barely getting enough air past the tears and fog. 

 

Eventually, he calms, though it takes a while. The sky is still far above him, the stars are still out, but the deep dark has faded slightly, starting to give way to the sun. He blinks up at the moving heavens, and takes a deep breath, and starts to sit up. His wings are caked with dirt, and his hair is a tangled mess. He shakes some dried mud from his hair and slowly gets to his feet, hesitantly walking back to the sea of blood and blue. 

The first footstep onto the stain is tentative, the second less so. By the time he's at the bones, he's calm and collected, and his heart thunders in the emptiness of his chest cavity.

Nathaniel won't ever have his own funeral. Nobody dares to go near the wreckage, not with pieces of the sigil still etched into his bones. But that doesn't mean he won't be avenged.

Slowly, Junys kneels, and wraps his fingers around one of the ribs, breaking off a piece of it. It's cold to the touch, and the marrow had been boiled out of it, leaving it blackened and hollow. He stands back up, reaching into his pocket for a length of twine that he'd brought with him. 

"I promise you, Nathan," he whispers, tying the string tightly around the broken end of the rib. He opens his hand, staring down at it, sitting in his palm. Then he closes his fingers around it, and growls. "I'll get that damn wingsmith. I'll kill him. For you."

He stares for just a moment more, then tugs the necklace over his head, around his neck, and turns away. He reaches to his other pocket and pulls out a box of silverwillow cigars.

Taking the small spark rocks from the box as well, he puts one of the cigars between his teeth and lights it with a sharp  _crack_.

**Author's Note:**

> nathaniel's an asshole, don't feel bad for him. and i mean junys is also an asshole, but a bit less of one. so you can feel somewhat bad for him, i guess. and i mean they wouldn't have worked out. they're both horrible, the relationship would've been (is) abusive and unhealthy, just... yeah no, nothing's good.
> 
> but i more or less wanted to, uh, show off this heartsickness thing. could, uh, yknow, come in handy, later on,,,,


End file.
